


Writing Snippets: Pillars of Eternity

by Drawkwamai



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Gen, LGBTQ Character, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 00:04:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16691512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drawkwamai/pseuds/Drawkwamai
Summary: A whole series of little drabbles and snippets that I've written over the past few months with my Watcher and his own adventures and misadventures in both the Dyrwood and the Deadfire. A whole grab bag of content from fun shippy things to some angst.They include my Death Godlike Cipher named Aoife who later multi-classed into a Ranger with his bird companion Ciara.





	1. Writing Snippet #1

Down below, voices rose up from the ruins of Brighthollow with the smell of heat and soggy wood. The fireplace only needed an hours worth of cleaning to be functional again; worst of the cold kept away from their bedrolls that way. The night sky loomed heavy, but the stars looked lovingly down rather than clouds. No worries of waking up in wet beds. Aoife was familiar with the sensation, but one he was neither fond of or enjoyed....and it had become a rather uncomfortably often occurrence in the past two weeks.

It wouldn’t be long before he path east would be cleared and Defiance Bay laid not far behind. A days trip or so to the walls of that city and who knew what laid behind it. A grander place that Aoife had ever seen before, that was for certain, but beyond that? A mystery to add to the collection. The Dyrwood was brand new to him before, but now that he could see the souls of those from the Beyond? Places always held layers in his head: the physical and people, and then what his mind sensed as he stretched out, touching essence like a moth against a lantern. But with the souls of the dead pressing against him? It was yet another layer to navigate.

One he wasn't sure if he could handle just yet.

Aoife heard more voices from below—louder than before—and stole a look down from the hole in the ceiling he had navigated through to the roof with a ladder's help.

“Aoife?” A familiar voice called and he turned his head, seeing the Elvish wizard looking up from the bottom of the ladder. His hands rested upon his hips, eyebrow cocked curiously.

“Yes?” He replied in his raspy, flanged tone of voice, ears twitching with a grin not on his face.

“Are you content to sleep upon the roof?” Aloth asked and Aoife snickered, lips curling into a teasing grin.

“Not bad up here, mind you. View is grand.” He beckoned with a hand. The grin didn’t fade as he heard footsteps on the ladder and he turned to make way for Aloth.

He blinked several times in the darkness, but Aoife saw a faint smile rise to his lips. The sky stretched before them, dark as the bottom of a well. The stars flickered in the blackness, a whole band of them across the dark expanse. A brief smile touched Aloth's face, eyes returning to Aoife.

“You were not lying.” Aloth spoke and Aoife chuckled, the sound like chimes, leaning cheek into a hand upon knee.

“Take me for a liar?” He asked in return, ears bending inquisitively.

“You did tell me you have three pairs of eyes.” He spoke in kind and Aoife chuckled, ears twitching again.

“You believe that to be a lie?” He asked and Aloth incredulously rolled his eyes.

“A puzzle game, then?”

“No, however funny or enjoyable the results may be.” Aoife waved his hand, ears dipping low for a moment.

A pause filled the air between them; it didn’t take long for Aloth to learn Aoife’s ears were the easiest to judge feelings by. It was hard when most of his face laid behind deep grey growths with lines and dots of gold and black paint covering the surface. Several gashes adorned the right side of his face, but they didn’t expose the surface below.

“Troubled by what you witnessed today?” Aloth asked and Aoife’s ears wiggled, his hand waving before it limply fell back down like it took too much to appear apathetic.

“How could I not?” He asked, turning his gaze to the elf. Even with the growths upon his face, most people knew when a Godlike had turned their gaze upon you.

“I do not wish to grow mad in a basement, tormented by my own actions from lifetimes ago that I no longer can change. It is the past; honor it, but not become blinded by it.” An undercurrent of sadness pressed into the tone of his flanged voice, along with the barest edge of fear.

“Or to it.” Aloth reminded him and a sigh escaped Aoife’s lips.

“I only wish to know what will become of me and…if it as such to be my fate, I would wish to spend it in comfort. Not upon the road, clawing for answers that will not be what I want.” He explained simply and Aloth briefly studied him. His ears nearly touched his shoulders, a lip bitten between a pair of sharp teeth; a wave of unease and fear came off of him briefly, purple flames dancing in his palms before a quick squeeze to fists extinguished the Cipher light.

“We will figure out what has happened, Aoife.” He reminded him gently, a softness that made his ears perk. “And wait for what will happen then.” Aloth finished, trying at a small smile for him. The sensation was a strange one, but it seemed to soothe Aoife

He looked upon the wizard briefly like he was regarding him and what he said, before he stood, brushing the dust from his pants.

“Thank you, Aloth.” He spoke quietly and the wizard blinked, a soft chuckle rising to his lips.

“Ah, you are…well, you are welcome.” He cleared his throat and gestured to the ladder.

“Shall we?”


	2. Writing Snippet #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got nailed with a lot of emotions when Sidha and Rîhenwn tell the Watcher that they can't be cured, so I jammed this out a while back.

Orbs of pale white light danced about the small area, purple wisps mixing along with them in a slow uncoordinated dance in time to music no one was playing. They both casted light and shadows about the small hidden grove not far from where they had paused for the night. The trek back to Hearthsong wasn’t worth the trouble, not when the answers were so close. Teir Evron stood naught by a hairs breath away; it was naught what they were seeking, but where the path lead regardless.

But to reach so far on that path had come at a terrible cost. Defiance Bay was still a smoking ruin, the whole of the city still in chaos over the death of the Duc supposedly at the hands of an Animancer. Their only path to Thaos laid deep in Twin Elms, and the nightmares had only gotten worse for Aoife. They would often find him poised alone in the camp, purple flames of his Cipher powers dancing about him, seeming to be off in the distance of memories of lives long since lived and died a hundred times over. Conversations with him often drifted off, his attention straying to figures and voices only there for his eyes to witness.

From the camp, Aloth had seen both the wisps and the lights appear amongst the others, the lights familiar. He took leave of the others, pushing aside branches upon the small path, stepping within the small space. There Aoife sat upon the ground, back against an old stone bench. The space above laid open, but the small area within wouldn’t have shown itself to eyes not looking. Aoife did have a knack for finding hiding places.

Aoife’s knees bundled up to his chest, a wisp sinking to the ground, bouncing from the grass to join the rest in the pattern. There were dimly lit—a deep purple—far from the usual form they would take of bright purple. Each one drifted in the sky briefly before they began to sink like stones falling into water to sink and drown.

He minded his way to sit beside Aoife, their shoulders pressing together in some soft gesture of comfort. It made up for the silence that filled the air between them.

“An Awakening cannot be undone, anymore than your past can be undone.”

The words spoke by Sidha fell between them like they would be felt, their impact like being struck in the stomach yet again. It left Aoife grasping for breath—for answers—only to find nothing waiting. Nothing but a void awaited with an answer he didn’t wish to know.

“So this has all been for nothing, and I’m going to lose my mind.”

Aoife’s shoulder’s shook, the wisps growing dimmer as the light faded from them, pulling himself in tighter.

“Aoife…” Aloth spoke quietly and he lifted his head. His ears drooped low enough to brush his shoulders and his lips twisted in grief.

He was going to end up like Maerwald—a shadow of himself, grasping and holding onto countless lives and the mistakes upon mistakes. He was going to fall into that despair with nothing to show for it. There was nothing to stop his decline, nothing but a possible hope with the Gods. To Aoife, it might as well have been a dead end.

Nothing but the pain and agony of consumption awaited him in the end.

His lips quivered and tears slipped down to his chin, more following behind them.

“Aoife….” Aloth’s voice cracked in the air and took his face in his hands, never minding the way the way it felt.

“I-I don’t wanna die…” Aoife whimpered, his flanged voice dying in his throat as a sob bubbled up from his chest to escape his lips. Another one followed, and another…and another until only cries poured from his lips and tears ran down his face. Sobs filled each gap and crevice even as Aloth held him close, gently running his fingers through his hair as if any soothing could help the reality of maddness standing before him. Even as Aloth held him quietly to perhap soothe away some of the pain and fear.

But, soothing did little and Aoife quietly, assuredly and brutally wept for his end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm attempting some sort of chronological order in these snippets, but do forgive me if I jump back and forth between the two games.


	3. Writing Snippet #3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jumping into Deadfire with some early stuff not long after the venture to the Engwithan ruin.

Music from the Kraken's Eye below filtered up through the thin floorboards and into the room, the sound muffled, but still quite loud. But, it wasn’t anything Aoife wasn’t accustomed to with the wild parties folk could get up to in Caed Nua. The kitchen was right below his room and he’d heard his fair share of folk falling into the fountain on more than one occasion. How they held such rowdy parties without the Lord of the whole place not in attendance was beyond him; the guests had only broken the chandeliers in the main hall a dozen times and nearly lit the Keep on fire six times. Thankfully, if one lit a boat on fire, everyone would be at loss.

Ciara chirped and chittered at him, his eyes returning to the finicky bird and her supposed needs. He held out a few more nuts to her and she eagerly took them, crunching them to pieces. A few bits fell onto the floor with the rest and Eder scoffed, pulling his pipe from his lips in a cloud of smoke. He stretched out in one of the chairs, his armor abandoned for simple clothes for the night.

“Still all stinky about making a mess, I see.” He chuckled and Ciara gave him a petulant squawk, golden eyes looking perturbed at the mention of her being stinky.

“Best mind your manners, Eder.” Xoti teased from one of the beds, stretching her arms high above her head, shaking her hair now loose from the hood.

“She’s never been fond of Eder.” Aoife spoke up, scratching along the top of her head and under her beak. She chittered happily and he offered her another nut which she happily chewed upon.

“Not sure why a bird got cause to hate me.” Eder nearly pouted and Aoife chuckled, stroking her beak for good measure. The door squeaked open and the three of them turned, spotting Aloth walking in. He raised an eyebrow at the three of them and Ciara gave a loud squawk, flapping her wings.

Aloth rolled his eyes, but nonetheless didn’t object as she flew over and came to rest on his shoulder. She chittered, teasily pulling at his ear like she did with Aoife.

“She got cause to like someone.” Xoti teased Aloth and he rolled his eyes dismissively, but his hand nonetheless smoothed the feathers around her neck.

“I do not understand why she enjoys digging her talons into my clothing….” Aloth grumbled, cajoling her onto his forearm as he placed her back onto her perch on the headboard near Aoife.

“Let’s call it affection, hm? She hasn't seen you in nearly five years and she did miss pulling on your ears quite dearly.” Aoife lightly teased and he rolled his eyes.

“Four years and your jokes have not improved, Aoife.” He replied in kind and Aoife gave a mock wince, placing a hand onto his chest.

“I beg to differ, Aloth.” Eder chimed in, a grin on his face. “He gets a least half of the barbs thrown at him.”

“True. Doesn’t help Dyrwoodens don’t lack for insults in their jokes.” He replied pointedly, Ciara hopping down onto his shoulder, pestering at his ear for more treats.

“Well they don’t lack for backhanded comments…” Aloth mumbled, brushing his hand down his shirt as he came to sit beside Aoife. Ciara chittered and clambered down from Aoife’s shoulder, once again hopping onto Aloth’s shoulder in search of someone who would give her a treat.

“The nobility, at least. Normal folk don’t hesistate to spit in your face.” Aoife pointed out when laughter rose from the other bed. The three of them turned, Xoti still laughing while she shook her head.

“Y’all….y’all sound like a bunch o’old ladies hooting n gossiping..!” She snickered and snorted, shaking her head while she laughed all the while.

“We are not old ladies hootin’ and hollering…!” Eder huffed and Aoife couldn’t suppress his own laugh.

“Five years as mayor and you can’t atest to the fact?” He hummed, raising an eyebrow with a pointed look.

“Well….” Eder spoke and then stopped, a huff escaping his mouth along with a puff of smoke. “Only Dyrwooden’s get to talk badly about their countrymen…!” He gave another huff and Aloth rolled his eyes.

“Then whatever shall the rest of us tease you with?” Aloth questioned and both Aoife and Xoti let out a snickering laugh.

“I regret coming along….shoulda stayed back home.” He mock pouted and Aoife giggled, shaking his head.

Xoti perked up with another comment while Aoife laid back against the cheap pillows, barely sinking into the cheap mattress. Still, it was better than the bedrolls from five years ago with the scratchy wool blankets. But, the company was just as good as before….He watched Aloth roll his eyes, scratching along Ciara’s chin while his other hand fussed with his shirt. Eder pointed his pipe at Xoti who was nearly falling off the bed in laughter, shaking her head.

Place the lot of them around a campfire with thick bows of trees overhead and tents nearby, and it would’ve nearly been as if nothing had changed.

But, everything had changed. More lines crossed Eder’s face, his beard longer and his eyes had a different gleam. A scar marred Aloth’s brow and he held himself higher than before, but Aoife could still see the ticks and pokes of anxiety in his bones. Not for lack of seeing his own faults, but he spent more time on those than he cared to think of.

But, some things never changed and good company was one such fact.


	4. Writing Snippet #4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can I get a found family trope, please? Mushy gushy cuteness

Wind danced across the ship, tickling the mast above as the sails clapped and wiggled. Waves lapped and crashed against the side, rocking the whole affair in a gentle motion. It was a casual motion through the ocean waters, making for smooth sailing. Ciara flew high overhead, her shape a silhouette against the sun, Ishiza alongside her as the circled the ship.

A sea shanty has picked up on the deck below and Xoti tapped her foot to the rhythm, softly humming along while leaning on the railing from the deck above. The smell of whiteleaf filled her nose briefly before salt and fish filled it again; she turned her head and Eder stood beside her, blowing another puff of smoke into the breeze. Eder regarded her briefly before his eyes returned to the deck. Loud laughter caught her attention and her gaze shifted to the deckhands maneuvering around Aoife and Aloth.

“Why does Aoife stick so close to Aloth?” She asked to Eder in her drawling accent, watching the pair of them sitting on the deck. Aloth sat with his back to Aoife’s chest, the pair passing notes back and forth to each other while they talked. Aoife’s foot idly tapped the air in time to the tune.

Eder let out a puff of smoke and shrugged. “Dunno. Always been close the two of them.”

“But he’s also close to you too.” Xoti pointed at Eder with a look.

“Aoife’s always been like that. Likes being close and touching people.” He replied and Xoti put her chin on hand, studying the pair.

“Don’t got nothing to do with five years ago?” She asked and Eder chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned down next to her.

“You hear much about that venture?” He stuck his pipe between his lips and took a long drag.

“Heard y’all ended the Hollowborn births…” She started and Eder nodded.

“Yeah, we were all in that mess together. Well, Aoife in the middle with the rest of us along for the ride.” He gave a chuckle. “It was quite a ride for certain. We all got to be some special sort of bunch…maybe family if you’d give it that word. Hooligans more like it.”

Eder looked back down at Aoife and Aloth, the pair still sitting pressed together, passing notes back and forth with a coordination that he hadn’t seen in five years. They were all different, but sometimes the years bled right back together. He could’ve taken the pair of them like that and placed them in the dozens of camps they made, or a joke could take him back to long weeks on the road. Even Aoife’s smile—a rarity so long ago—took him back; it was even enough to hear Aloth groan and it was as if no time had passed. They’d all made something special those five months.

“Nah,” Eder clicked his tongue and shook his head, “it’s a family.”


	5. Writing Snippet #5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aoife talks about his own nightmares with Xoti + some Aloth sleepy cuddles + a touch of angst

Pages flipped against pages, a soft sound to match the soft lapping of waves against the hull. The lanterns swayed, casting dancing shadows across the small captain’s quarters to ward away the dark of night. Outside the room the hallway was dark, but nonetheless he could hear the loud snoring of deckhands. He felt the soft rise and fall of Aloth’s breathing, his arm draped across him as he slept with his head in Aoife’s lap. Not the most comfortable position, but he could be accommodating.

“Hey, Aoife?”

He looked up from his book, two golden eyes examining Xoti from blanket heap she had made on the floor near his bed. She hadn’t been able to sleep, the nightmares too strong for her head. He knew well the pain she was going through, remembering the last weeks in Twin Elms vividly despite the years since then.

“Can you…can you tell me again about your nightmares?” She spoke softly like a child asking for permission and Aoife sighed through his nose, twin eyes looking down briefly. His nose wrinkled and he took a deep breath; not like it was painful to recount any longer, but still the details stuck into his head.

“I am on a Wheel; a torture device. My face is burned, but I cannot feel it. Nor can I feel the rest of my body beyond a burning pain deep in my chest. I’m sure the rest of my body is screaming in pain, but I cannot feel it." He recounts, unsure of when the memories bled from hers and into his own. Maybe they always had done that. Maybe it was the cost of their connection.

"Thaos asks me to confess, but I cannot say the words he wishes me to speak. I tell him other things, but he will not listen. It’s always more pain, more pain…I cannot give him in the answers he seeks. But then I always ask the same question of him: ‘are there no gods?’ He refuses to answer and I ask him again and again. He will not speak. I try to ask again...another question on my lips, but I awake each time.” Aoife explained slowly and steadily like a detached scholar reading an old history not his own. The nightmare still held a grain of truth to the analogy.

“And you dreamed for how long?” Xoti asked and Aoife sighed, eyes drifting down to look at Aloth.

“For nine months after we defeated Thaos.” He gently brushed hairs from Aloth’s face, careful not to touch his face to wake him. He’d been exhausted from the past few days and he needed the rest. Five years and his terrible sleeping habits continued, the boat no help.

“Why did they stop?” She asked and Aoife shrugged idly.

“I do not know. Perhaps some measure of peace had come over my resolution. Or my head decided it had enough of itself in that regard.” He puzzled with another shrug and Xoti buried deeper into her blankets.

“Least you had folks with you.” She mumbled and Aoife’s ears dipped.

“You have us, Xoti.” He smiled with his words and she managed a vague turn of her lips in response. She looked away for a moment as if she was puzzling something, her teeth worrying her lip like it always did. His eyes slipped back down to his book, arm returning to rest acros Aloth’s side.

The snoring from the other room echoed, footsteps light above deck. The only expectations on a ship in the middle of the night.

“How did you and Aloth meet?” She asked out of the blue and Aoife’s ears tipped curiously, casting a glance her way.

“I-I don’t mean to pry!” She spoke quickly. “I just, uh, wanted a lighter topic to discuss.”

Aoife chuckled quietly and his face softened into a grin. “That is a story I can tell.” He blew a bit of his own hair from his face.

“I had just been accosted by a men sent by the Lord Raedric. The whole tree full of hanged people in view…” He spoke and Xoti’s nose wrinkled up in confusion.

“Ask Eder about that.” He waved his hand and she rolled her eyes. “But, I needed a place to sleep since I had walked the past eight hours to Gilded Vale, soaking wet, sick still and my head all waterlogged like when you drink cheap liquor. I was pointed to the inn and when I got there, three villagers were accosting Aloth for some…reason or another that has slipped my mind. I go over to possibly see what is wrong.”

“Sad to say it came to a fight that didn’t end well. But, after that Aloth agreed to come along with me.” Aoife finished and he gave a laugh. “I wonder sometimes why he stuck around. We got into all sorts of trouble.” He paused for a moment, the memories flashing across his eyes.

\--

The burning city behind them, smoke in his lungs and his eyes burning for a half dozen reasons, trying to swallow down the tears. Aloth standing before him, eyes pleading over the truths spilled from his lips.

“You didn’t think to tell me sooner?! Why, hello, I’m with the Leaden Key! Could’ve been a nice place to start!”

“I told you I was done with them! I hadn’t been in contact for months! No one was there to say to accompany you!”

“So it was charity then?! You came along out of some pity?! Some contrived need for someone to tell you where to go, what to do!”

“I-Yes!! Does it please you to have that confession?! My admission of guilt strew about for you to seek pleasure in it?!”

"I don't--"

\--

Xoti’s voice brought him and he looked up at her, ears flickering. “Why did he stick around, then?”

Aoife looked back down at Aloth, watching his nose wrinkle before the look disappeared, his breathing evening out again.

“I…cannot say.” Aoife lied quietly. It was a foolish hope for him, a terrible reason to hope and wonder why he stayed. They were close friends, if such a word even fit the strange family that they had clobbered together five years ago. Why the bonds between them had lasted so long was beyond him. He hadn’t expected Aloth to have jumped right back into his company, not after their disagreement, but he had come back into the company without hesitation or reserve. Aloth hadn’t said a word of protest when they reached the ruins below and he’d cried and laughed to see his face again. Maybe the affections still remained…or maybe the even deeper ones still lingered, a small spark.

No, it was foolishness to think of more.

Aoife looked back at Xoti, trying to hide the pain behind a faint smile.

“Perhaps a question better served by Aloth himself.” He spoke quietly and silence fell over the both of them, the creaking rocking motion of the ship the only company.


	6. Writing Snippet #6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aoife has vastly different experiences with his own birth compared to Tekehu

“What of your birth, Tekehu? It’s not everyday Ondra gifts the world with one such as yourself.” Aoife spoke, pushing the hair from his face whipped up from the winds and salt spray. Tekehu laughed, a grin adorning his face as he stood proudly, hands on his hips.

“Ekera. High winds stirred the vigor of the seas…Two huts collapsed before our local Storm Speaker could shout down the weather!” He spoke with pride in his voice, his eyes alight. “They say the skies only cleared when I fell into the midwife’s basket. Peace had returned to the island. Or so the Mataru predicted.” He finished with a grin and Aoife forced one in return, his stomach churning. A tale he had expected...but one that far outweighed his own in leagues. 

“But what of your own birth? It is not everyday one such as yourself is gifted to this world.” He spoke and Aoife scoffed, not missing the turning of his own words or the poorly concealed flirting business. Nonetheless, he gave a dismissive wave of his hand to try and hide the growing pit.

“It’s nothing to be compared, I assure you. A grand celebration for my birth? Hardly….” He replied, stroking the tough growths along his dark grey skin. But Tekehu looked insistently on despite his dismissive words. Aoife swallowed hard, matching eyes looking out to the ocean. Several long moments passed before he heaved a sigh and spoke, fiddling with his scarred knuckles.

“My...my, uh, mother was from Aedyr. Ciara, was her name.” Not too far away, Ciara his hawk perked up and chittered, hopping over to the pair. She flapped her wings, hoping onto the railing next to the pair, looking on with inquisitive eyes. “My…other mother, Therisia, had settled in the Plains long enough that another home didn’t matter; Ixamitl Plains was where I was born, to be exact.” He rubbed at his arms like a sudden chill had covered his arms in gooseflesh. He picked at the scars with his tattooed hands, fingers trembling.

“Ciara…my mother, she…she, uh, died in childbirth.” He stuttered like he had to force the words from his lips and he let the irony of such a fate settle between them. As a babe, he had claimed the first victim of his gift from the gods; cursed to suffer by his hands. Any number of words could've filled the space to define what he had wrought when he came to this world. What Berath had given him; many blamed him for such suffering, but he only saw Berath in his own hatred.

“Even as a child fresh from the womb, they knew I was Godlike. One cannot hide a baby with four eyes and twisted grey skin, plates of cartilage across his skin.” His two eyes uncovered from the growths five years ago looked away, unable to force a chuckle despite the attempt at a joke. 

“Ekera…I am so sorry, Aoife.” Tekehu spoke, genuine sadness in his tone. He always took things so strongly--one of things Aoife admired about him. Aoife waved his hand dismissively again, clearing his throat as if to clear the clouding mood.

“Ac. No one would’ve blamed my mother if she would’ve forced her rage upon me and let death claim me once again. But, she raised me regardless; compassion of a saint one might say.” He gave a weak chuckle, leaning down onto the railing. Ciara chittered softly, climbing upon to his shoulder to nuzzle his face. He smiled, scratching at the feathers atop her head and she cooed.

“I say she made the correct choice.” Tekehu spoke and leaned down beside him, a smile on his face as their shoulders bumped. Aoife gave a half smile, shaking his head as he leaned against the other Godlike, his cheek resting against his sizable arm.

“Thank you for your glowing recommendation. I shall forward it to her immediately.” He joked and Tekehu’s lips split into a large grin. He gave him a rough slap to the back and Ciara squawked in protest, taking flight to the rigging overhead at the utter indignity, feathers beyond ruffled.

“We’ll make a jester of you yet Aoife, I do say!” He joyfully laughed.


End file.
